


Call You Mine

by ImagineTheDragon



Series: I Wouldn't Mind [4]
Category: Seduce Me (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, It happens, Jealousy, Lazy Sex, One Shot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, i mean it's kinda a smut sandwich, smut character moment smut, some people write smut to COPE, sometimes you just gotta write plot less smut, then it escaped, this started as two lines of dialogue that i liked, you just gotta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineTheDragon/pseuds/ImagineTheDragon
Summary: Abigail can have sex with her fiancé. As a treat.Nothing of plot significance happens in this, it’s just an excuse for Abby and Sam to bone. Set like 6 months before Carry You Home
Relationships: Sam Anderson | Aomaris/Original Female Character(s)
Series: I Wouldn't Mind [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799428
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Call You Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I- listen- I just- sometimes you gotta- uuuuuuuhhhhhhhh… 👉👈🥺

Sam swore under his breath as the alarm on his nightstand blared to life. 

“Not even a fucking work day, what the fucking shit hell-”

I heard him smack the snooze button with enough force to crack the plastic, then swear some more as he fumbled for the cord to unplug it. However he had broken it had left the ringer stuck on. 

“And  _ this  _ is why you get dollar store alarms,” I murmured sleepily, eyes closed, duvet pulled half over my face. Usually I would have already been up and about, but I’d been up late on a group call with Natalia, Steph, Naomi, and Suzu. The bed was warm, and my fiancé was here for snuggles. And, after all, as Sam had pointed out, it wasn’t a work day. We could stay here as long as we wanted.

I felt Sam roll over and flop his arm around me on top of the blankets. 

“Nerngumshumpuna.”

“I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t English,” I said with amusement, peeling an eye open to peer at him. 

His face was only an inch or so away from mine, nose and forehead scrunched, eyes screwed tight shut. He didn’t bother clarifying. 

I kissed his nose with a happy hum, then made an undignified squeak as he rolled over, pulling me with him so I was lying on his chest. 

“Rude.”

He shifted his grip on me, giving my sides a squeeze before loosening his hands and ghosting the tips of his fingers up and down my spine. 

Deeply unfair of him. 

“Go back to sleep, doofus,” he said, his voice husky with sleep, eyes still shut. 

“Mmm, no, I don’t think I will.” I pressed my lips to the soft skin just above one side of his collar bone, then his neck, then back to the other side of his chest. 

I was rewarded by the low rumble of an almost noiseless growl shaking his torso.

Lips still pressed to his skin, I smiled. 

“Wakey wakey,” I murmured in a singsong voice. “You forgot to turn off your alarm, and now you must pay the price.”

Before he could reply, I took a deep breath and blew a raspberry on the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

It was his turn to yelp indignantly, his whole body spasming beneath me. 

I was laughing at him when he rolled over, pinning me to the mattress beneath his weight. His dog tag clinked cheerfully against the chain of the one I wore around my neck. I blinked innocently up at him as he glared at me. 

“Whatcha go and do that for?” 

“Abs I swear to-”

I leaned up and pressed my lips to his, my hands against his chest. For a moment, I worried that he was genuinely angry at me, then he melted, returning the kiss, muscles relaxing and pushing me further into the bed. 

I wrapped my arms around him, trailing my fingers up and down his back like he had just been doing to mine and enjoying the solid feeling of him on top of me. 

His lips left mine, trailing down my jaw and pulling a gasp from me as his teeth scraped across my favourite spot on my neck. 

“You know,” I said breathlessly. “When I agreed to marry you, I don’t think I realized how absolutely unfair you could be.”   
“No take-backs,” he muttered, his mouth trailing across my bare chest. 

I dug my nails into his back as he shifted slightly, his thigh moving between my legs to press against me. “Absolutely unfair,” I repeated.

Neither of us wore much to bed, and a pair of cotton underwear wasn’t much protection from the way he was moving his leg against me. 

I tangled my fingers in his hair as he lowered his head, nipping at the sensitive skin of my right breast, an almost involuntary groan escaping me. 

I pushed my hips up against him, and tugged on his hair, smiling at the low growl that earned me.

He moved lower again, running kisses along my belly until he was fully beneath the duvet, his fingers hooked around the elastic of my underwear. I wiggled a bit, lifting my hips so he could tug them off. 

Sam didn’t go down on me often, by my own choice; I wasn’t a huge fan of receiving that way. But by god, when he did, he proved he knew what he was doing. 

Within about a minute he had me trembling and tangling my fingers in the sheets.

“Okay, okay,” I panted. 

He slowed down until he stopped, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, running his hands up and down the outside of my legs until my shaking started to slow. 

With one last kiss on my hip, he re-emerged from beneath the duvet, a smug smile on his face as he propped himself up above me. 

I rolled my eyes. “Yes yes, you did a good job. Come here, dork.” 

I pulled him into a kiss, letting my fingers play through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. 

He was practically purring, and I could tell that he was still smirking into our kiss. Smug bas-

My train of thought was thoroughly derailed as he slid into me with a slow, firm stroke, the warm pull of his thrall falling over me at the same time. 

He kept a slow, lazy rhythm, his elbows digging into the mattress on either side of me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and caught his bottom lip between my teeth for a moment before letting it go with a low moan. 

“I love you,” he said suddenly, voice low and breathless. 

“It doesn’t count while we’re having sex,” I reminded him, panting. 

“Should I stop so it counts?”

“I  _ will _ file for divorce.”

He laughed, then bit back a moan as I dug my nails into his back. 

“We’re not even married yet.”

“You think that’ll stop me?”

He didn’t dignify that with a response, instead busying his mouth with my breasts. 

Five or so minutes later, when we were both done, I traced swirls and abstract patterns softly on his back. He was draped bonelessly over me, his head on my shoulder as we both caught our breath. 

“Okay, now you can say it,” I said before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“What if I don’t wanna say it now?” he muttered, amusement in his voice. 

“Mmmm,” I considered. “I suppose I wouldn’t make you pancakes then.”

“Noooo! Pancakes!” 

I laughed, moving my fingers from his back to running through his hair. “Alright, you win, dork. Pancakes it is.”

“I’m very convincing.” 

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a man with green eyes.”

He lifted his head from my shoulder, resting his chin on my sternum to look up at me with a soft look in his eyes. 

“I love you, doofus.”

“You really must, to say it while you’re seeing me from that angle,” I said lightly, ruffling his hair. “I love you too. Dork.”

~~~

After all my promises of making pancakes, I found myself sitting on the island in my PJs, drinking coffee from a mug shaped like a shark’s head while Sam stood in front of the stove. 

“You doing alright over there?” I asked with an arched brow. 

“Yes,” he said defensively. “I can cook pancakes just fine, thank you.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

He turned, closing the distance between us and standing between my legs, hands on either side of my thighs. “I’ve come a long way from burning toast,” he said, his voice almost a purr. 

I sipped my coffee, locking my ankles around his waist and fluttered my eyelashes at him. 

“Don’t I know it.”

I darted my head forward and kissed his chin.

Before I pulled too far back, he leaned forward, crushing his lips to mine as his hands moved further up my legs, sliding beneath the waistband of my shorts to dig his fingers into my ass. I hummed appreciatively into the kiss, catching his lip between my teeth for a moment before tilting my head back as he moved teasing kisses down my neck. My mug was pressed awkwardly between us, but the feeling of his lips on my skin was too good for me to push him away long enough to set it aside. 

I would have let him keep at it for longer, but something caught my attention from the direction of the stove.

“Better go make sure your pancakes don’t char, mister ‘I don’t burn toast.’”

He immediately disentangled himself from me and left the circle of my legs to return his attention to the pancakes, swearing loudly. 

I just smirked, finishing the last of my coffee and grabbing my phone. I took a picture of Sam in his Batman PJ pants in front of the stove, frantically trying to deal with the pan, which was sending the beginnings of a smoke cloud into the hood fan. I sent it to Natalia, Naomi, and Suzu as a Snapchat captioned “When bae makes breakfast 😍😍😍” before setting my phone on the counter as the smoke alarm started going off. 

Putting my empty mug aside, I stood on the island, reaching up to hit the silence button on the screeching alarm. 

“Next time, I’m making the pancakes, no matter what you say,” I told him cheerily, walking the length of the island and hopping down to open the window above the sink to let more air in.

Sam grumbled something incomprehensible as he dumped the charred remains of what used to be our pancakes into the green bin. 

“Let’s go out for breakfast,” I suggested, going on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Naomi, Suzu and I found the cutest little place last week, I’ve been wanting to take you.”

~~~

I wasn’t usually a jealous person. I was pretty confident in myself and my relationship; I knew Sam only had eyes for me like I only had eyes for him. But if our waitress didn’t stop flirting with him I was going to shove her cute little black and white wingtip shoes somewhere the sun didn’t shine and push her through the front window of the restaurant. 

“Oh that’s so funny,” she said, leaning a little closer to Sam than necessary as she picked up his plate. It was a coincidence that her shirt was riding lower on her chest than it had been last time she was by our table, right? 

Right.

I arched an eyebrow at her, but she certainly wasn’t paying any attention to me. 

It didn’t help that Sam hadn’t said anything to shut her down. He wasn’t flirting with her, but it bothered me that he hadn’t said something. 

_ I _ had almost said something to her on several occasions, but I didn’t want to come off as a petty and insecure bitch. 

Of course, I was being petty and insecure wasn’t I?

I frowned at my hands, fiddling with my engagement ring. 

“Just the bill, please,” I heard Sam say. 

“Sure thing,” the waitress said chirpily. She had told us her name when she started to serve us. I had pushed it out of my head in the name of spite. 

“You okay?” Sam asked once she was out of earshot. 

My head snapped up and I gave him a bright smile. “Me? Yeah I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, but didn’t push it. “I’ll be right back.”

He got up and headed to the bathroom.

I blew out my cheeks and grabbed my phone from my purse, checking for any notifications I’d missed while we were having breakfast. 

Today had started so well. Lazy morning sex was some of my favourite sex, and Sam might have mangled our pancakes, but only because he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off me. This little breakfast nook was so cute. It was decorated with fake ivy and wrought iron fixtures, the walls roughly stuccoed and painted to make it look like the inside of a woodland cottage. The food had been great too. I just  _ had  _ to go and get all jealous and weird about a woman flirting with my fiancé. 

“Did you _ see _ the size of his arms?”

I fought the urge to turn my head at the sound of our waitress presumably talking to one of her coworkers.

“Uh-huh. I also saw his fiancée sitting across from him,” the coworker replied. It sounded like the host who had seated us. 

Their voices were pitched low, clearly not meant for anyone to hear. They were somewhere behind me and to my left, hidden by a waterfall of plastic ivy cascading from the ceiling. There must have been some sort of station back there. I kept fiddling with my phone, trying my best to not show I was listening in.

Our waitress snorted. “Yeah, but he’s way out of her league. I don’t mind being a homewrecker for a side of beef like that.”

“One, looks aren't everything. Two, she’s very pretty. Three,  _ now  _ who’s the one objectifying men? Also, Stace, that’s awful. You’re awful.” 

I decided I liked the host. 

“Whatever Trav. He hasn’t said anything. He’s incredibly hot, and he looks like he’d be more than capable of picking me up and pinning me to a wall, and that’s what’s important.”

“Why are you the way you are?”

“My dad didn’t love me enough? Don’t tell me you’re not imagining what he could do to you with biceps like that.”

“The difference is that I’m not the one actively flirting with him. Having Thoughts is ethical. Flirting with someone in front of their fiancée is not.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. Maybe I’ll put my phone number on the receipt…”

“Please don’t.”

If I’d been watching this on a TV show, I might have found the pleading tone the host used funny. As it was, I was somewhere between seething and deeply upset. 

I knew Sam was out of my league, for more reasons than anyone else knew, but it still stung to hear. Besides. He was  _ mine. _ I was just as much his, of course, but a possessiveness I wasn’t used to feeling felt like it was choking me. 

I took a deep breath and did my best to shove my emotions into a box to deal with later. As much as this woman was driving me up the proverbial wall, I wasn’t actually worried about her taking Sam from me. I was being dumb. 

Sam was still in the bathroom when the waitress came back with the bill. I watched her visibly deflate when she saw that I was alone at the table and I fought to keep a pleasant smile on my face.

“Here you go,” she said in a voice that managed to be professional and icy at the same time as she handed me the bill. She had opted not to write her number on it, which was a good thing for both my blood pressure and her physical well-being.

“Thank you so much,” I said dryly, pulling my debit card out of my wallet and tucking it into the card slot. I resisted the petty urge to write ‘zero’ on the tip line and put something roughly close to twenty percent and handed it back.

A moment after she’d left, Sam returned, putting a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Bill here yet?” 

I nodded, wiggling my unzipped wallet. “She’s just ringing it through now.”

He nodded and grabbed our jackets off the hook, shrugging his on before shaking mine out and holding it up for me. 

I gave him a tight smile as I stood up and pushed my arms into the sleeves. Sam gave my shoulders another quick squeeze before the waitress returned, handing me my card and the receipt. 

I was putting my card back in my wallet when she started talking to Sam and the muscles in my shoulders tightened reflexively. “Thank you for coming in. You’re welcome back any time. I’m here Tuesday through Saturday!”

“Uh, thanks.” 

I took Sam’s hand, stepping close to him. “Yeah, we’ll be sure to do that.” It came out more waspish than I had been planning, but I couldn’t make myself regret it. 

I tugged on Sam’s arm and led him out of the restaurant without looking back. That definitely was not my finest moment. 

I let Sam’s hand go when we got to my truck, grabbing the fob from my purse and unlocking it. 

We were ten minutes into the drive home before Sam turned the music down and broke the silence. 

“So I’ve been thinking about it and I have no clue what I did to piss you off.” There was no antagonism in his tone, just trepidation and concern. “But I don’t think it’s fair to take it out on your truck like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said after a moment, loosening my grip on the steering wheel. I didn’t even realize I’d been clutching it so hard. “I’m being stupid, it’ll pass.”

“Abby…” he put his hand on my thigh. I glanced briefly at him before returning my attention to the road in front of me. 

“Seriously. I’m being dumb.”

“I wanna know what I did so I don’t do it again, whether you think you’re being dumb or not.”

I blew out my cheeks, drumming my finger on the wheel for a moment. “You didn’t say anything to shut down the waitress.”

“Shut down… the waitress…?”

I glanced at him and raised my eyebrows. He looked completely lost.

“She- she was flirting with you the whole time we were there?”

He went  _ completely _ silent. I kept my eyes on the road.

“At first I kept my cool because I’m not petty and insecure, but then she kept flirting and you didn’t say anything and suddenly I  _ was _ petty and insecure and yeah, kinda upset that you weren’t saying anything. But  _ I _ couldn’t say anything because then you’d  _ realize  _ I was being petty and insecure and  _ that’s  _ not a good look. So I just stewed in it and got more and more upset because you’re  _ mine _ .”

I frowned out the window, staring at the taillights in front of us. I hadn’t meant to go on such a rant, but the words just hadn’t stopped. Possessiveness wasn’t my usual vibe. 

“Abs, I had no idea she was flirting with me.”

I didn’t take my eyes off the road, just lifted the eyebrow closest to him, a little incredulous. “You had no idea that the supermodel-hot waitress was flirting with you?” I asked flatly. 

He gave my thigh a squeeze. “I- listen. I didn’t even flirt with you when we first met. Flirting is very much not something I do.”

“That makes you a bad sex demon. You’re a bad sex demon.”

“That’s not what you said this morning,” he purred, sliding his hand a bit higher up my thigh, making my sundress ride up. 

“See, there you go!” I exclaimed in irritation. “You say ‘dur hbur, flirting isn’t something I do,’ and then you go doing stuff like that!”

He went quiet for a second. “That’s because I only register flirting when it’s at, or coming from, you,” he said slowly, almost like he was just putting the pieces together himself. 

That… made me feel a little better. 

“I’m sorry Sam. I guess I’m just having a weird day.”

“Don’t apologize, doofus. I was being oblivious, I don’t blame you for being upset.”

I shot him a grin. “I should be used to that by now, you being oblivious. It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“That waitress thought I was cute too, apparently.”

“Watch it buster, you’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

His fingers dug into my thigh

“You being possessive is pretty hot.”

~~~

We barely made it inside before Sam closed the door and had me pinned against it, my legs moving around his hips and my arms around his shoulders as he kissed me deeply. 

Using the door to support my weight, he took his hands off my ass long enough to fumble his pants off, kicking them off somewhere to the left. I barely noticed, enjoying the almost painful feeling of being caught between the door and the firm planes of Sam’s muscled torso. Also his tongue in my mouth. That was nice too. 

Sam’s hands moved from my ass to my thighs, pushing the skirt of my dress up until it was around my hips. 

“How much do you like the underwear you’re wearing right now?” he asked huskily, pulling away from our kiss. 

Panting, I closed my eyes and thumped my head against the door, trying to remember what I’d put on that morning. 

“Don’t give a shit about the underwear,” I decided. “I like the bra though.”

There was the sound of tearing fabric as my underwear became no longer relevant to the conversation. “I can work with that,” Sam said, his voice a low rumble as his hands returned to my ass, lifting me higher so he could nip at my collarbone. 

I gave a low, throaty moan as he brought one of his hands around, his thumb making circles on my clit. 

I knew from experience that the bruising kisses he was trailing across my neck and chest were going to leave  _ spectacular _ hickies. Good. I’d never been shy about the marks he left on me, and after the breakfast we’d had it felt good to know he was just as possessive of me as I was of him.

I managed to yank his shirt from between us, pulling it over his head and tossing it away, not caring where it ended up. 

I gasped and dug my nails into his shoulders as he slid into me, pressing me harder into the door as his hand returned to my ass. 

This morning had been slow, lazy but passionate. This was rough and fast, bruising and fantastic in how aggressive Sam was handling me.

I bit his shoulder as he pounded into me, cutting off my own moan of pleasure. 

Easily supporting me with one hand, Sam’s other hand moved up my back, tangling in my hair to pull my head back so he could kiss me. 

I tightened my legs around his hips, forcing him to shorten his thrusts and dug my nails into his back, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction coil in my belly at how he groaned into my mouth. 

He pulled his head away from mine, and I moved my hands from his back to tug at his hair as his green eyes locked with mine. There was desire, lust, whatever you wanted to call it there, but they were also full of something softer as he checked to make sure I was still enjoying myself. 

Which, of course, I was.

“Upstairs,” I said through a moan. 

The word was hardly past my lips before the world went blurry and there was the familiar sense of motion and I was suddenly pressed into our bed. 

“Sam,” I said breathlessly before pulling his face back to mine and catching his lower lip between my teeth as he found his rhythm again.

I’d long since stopped finding it strange when Sam’s thrall fell over me while we were having sex, but times like this, when it didn’t, always made me a weirdly happy. In my mind it meant that we were having sex because he wanted to, not because he was hungry or something. Of course, his enthusiasm for the activity no matter what always told me that it was never  _ just _ about his hunger. It was still a pleasant change of pace. 

In one deft motion, Sam flipped us over, leaving me on top. 

I took a moment to catch my breath, then grabbed the skirt of my dress pooling on his stomach and pulled it over my head, tossing it off towards the laundry hamper. My bra quickly followed, and Sam’s hands slid up my sides to toy with my breasts as I started moving myself up and down on him. 

“God you’re hot,” he said, voice rough. 

I paused, wiggling my hips against him teasingly. “The amount of effort that goes into my hair alone? I should hope so.”

He grinned up at me, then flipped me back over, taking my arms and pinning them above my head with one hand before I registered what he was doing. 

I went to make a complaint, but his mouth was on mine again, tongue tracing my lower lip before delving deeper into my mouth. 

My growl of frustration turned into a moan of pleasure as he moved his other hand between us, doing something fun with his fingers as he thrust into me. 

When we were done, I was lying across Sam’s chest with his arms wrapped around me.

Once I’d caught my breath, I picked myself up on my elbows, looking down at him, my forehead creased. “So like. For clarification. You’re  _ not _ weirded out or uncomfortable with me being possessive?”

Sam snorted, grinning at me. “Abs. You being possessive turned me on so much that we barely made it home.” He leaned up and kissed my nose. 

“Okay but that doesn’t actually answer my question?!”

“No, doofus. It doesn’t weird me out or make me uncomfortable.”

I let out the breath I had been holding, flopping back onto his chest. “Good.”

We lay there for a few minutes, just enjoying the sound of our breathing, Sam’s hands working through my hair in a way that felt great but meant I’d need to wear my hair up until I could deal with it. 

“Now,” I said when our heartbeats had both leveled out, sitting up off his chest and patting his cheek. “Grab your workout clothes. We’re gonna go on a run.”

He groaned.


End file.
